


i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

by glitter_ghostie



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together, Post War, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_ghostie/pseuds/glitter_ghostie
Summary: Finn and Poe get their first proper house together, after the war.





	i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bodhirookandor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirookandor/gifts).



> for izzy, because your finnpoe [slowdancing](http://bifinnskywalker.tumblr.com/post/163470157924/since-were-all-in-our-finnpoe-feelings-we-should) post is godsent and i would die for it.
> 
> this is technically in the same timeline as 'your skin like dawn' but you don't need to read it to understand this fic.

Their house was perfect. Absolutely, wonderfully _perfect._ Finn slowly ran his hand along the wall, feeling every small bump and crevice, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the salty air. He could feel the sunlight kissing his closed eyelids, could smell the sea outside, and the radio was humming softly behind him – this moment was perfect.

He opened his eyes, looking at the stack of unopened boxes against the wall. _Unpacking, right._ He thought to himself, and he picked up the top box, reaching into his pocket for his knife. At this moment, Poe was off at the market to get groceries, promising with a warm kiss that he’d be back to help in a minute.

A warm sun, a warm kiss – Finn didn’t know his life could possibly get to be this gentle.

He hummed along to the radio as he began unwrapping the objects in the box – the little model planes that Poe had amassed over the war, built between meetings and missions and collapsing onto the bed, exhausted, at the end of the day. Finn ran a careful finger over the wings of Poe’s favourite: the tiny A-wing, fit with an even smaller pilot than Finn had insisted on painting with a head of black curls. Poe had retaliated by painting the ski speeder pilot to look like Finn. 

Finn smiled at the two miniature pilots, and placed their ships side by side on the windowsill of their room. 

The bed was finally assembled, after much muttering and cursing the instructions, and Finn wasn’t sure what made that so significant, but the elation he’d felt the first night he and Poe had gotten into their _own_ bed in their _own_ house was enough to make him giddy, giggling like a child as he hugged Poe close. 

Soon, he and Poe would cook their first proper meal in their own kitchen, sit in their own garden, use their own ‘fresher, more and more firsts sprung to mind as Finn arranged the last of the model planes, smiling to himself. 

Finn began unpacking his art supplies – at least, the ones he hadn’t insisted on bringing in his bag – stacking the sketchbooks on the floor by the bed where a bedside table would soon stand and sorting, then resorting, his pencils and brushes. The newest sketchbook – beautiful and made out of some rare animal hide, similar to the type his jackets were made of – was a gift from Rey, and on the first page was a note: “a new sketchbook for a new home – lots of love.”

Maybe he’d break it in by doing a painting of the house, later, or another sketch of Poe to go with the countless others. By this point Finn could probably draw him with his eyes closed, having memorised every slope and edge and line.

He only jumped slightly when the door suddenly unlocked downstairs, and he heard Poe call up to him.

“I’m home, big deal.”

Finn smiled and rolled his eyes at the name. “Welcome home, hotshot.”

He heard Poe hum to himself, putting the groceries away, and Finn busied himself with organising his pastels into the colours of the rainbow as Poe came upstairs.

“Find anything interesting?”

Instead of speaking, Poe placed a bag of sweets into his lap before pressing a kiss to Finn’s cheek.

“They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Poe said, smiling, and tilted Finn’s head to kiss him again, this time on the lips.

“You know me well.”

“I should hope so,” Poe’s lips were as warm as Finn remembered, and they felt like little beams of sunlight as Poe scattered pecks across his face. He then sat down beside Finn, resting his head on his shoulder.

“I love the house,” Finn murmured after a moment, his hand coming out to touch the wall again, and the other one came around to hold Poe’s hip, pulling him closer. Poe’s hand came to rest on Finn’s waist, copying the action, and they both let out a sigh.

“I love it, too.”

“The others are already asking about the housewarming party.”

“Tell them that as soon as we have somewhere to sit other than our bed and the floor, they can come.”

They chuckled then, and Finn added “we should probably get on that.”

“Later,” Poe said. “It’s too nice of an afternoon to spend huffing over furniture.”

“Then the housewarming party waits a little longer,” Finn said, definitively, and he felt Poe’s hand move in small circles on his hip; a friendly, welcoming gesture.

“Dad will want to come over, though. I told him he’s too old to be lugging around boxes and furniture, but you know what he’s like.”

“He’s like you,” Finn snickered, and Poe pinched the softness that had developed at his hip. “Though it would be nice to have him over – do you reckon we can trick him into not doing work?”

“I’ll think of something. Maybe we could have your moms over – they can distract him by exchanging war stories.”

Finn huffed a laugh before standing, returning to unpacking their things. He heard Poe get up, too, and he opened another box, unpacking the clothes they couldn’t fit into their bags to neatly put them away in the chest of drawers, which had gone up the same day as the bed. Poe hummed along to the radio as he went, and eventually humming led to singing while sorting their clothes into the correct drawers.

There were still a lot of boxes that needed unpacking, but they hadn’t set up the storage units or the wardrobe, so they’d just have to wait a little longer. Finn was mentally counting them when he felt Poe’s arms wrap around his waist from behind, and he was slowly swaying in time with the love song that had started playing.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, and Finn took the hands around his middle, turning to face Poe. They held each other close, the music swelling as they slowly turned in the free floor space, and Finn pressed his face to the spot where Poe’s shoulder and neck met, feeling Poe’s hand slide up his back.

Poe’s palm was warm on his spine, as was the chest pressed to his, and he felt like maybe he was melting, feeling the buzz of Poe’s humming against the thin skin of the bridge of his nose and the sun beaming on them from outside the bedroom window.

As the song reached its climax, Poe took Finn’s hand and spun him out – Finn turned back and came back to him, his back to Poe’s chest. The song faded out, and then it was just the two of them stood in their bedroom, holding each other and saying nothing, because in that moment nothing needed to be said – it was already perfect.


End file.
